Jealousy
by dark wings alias raat ke rani
Summary: Something inside Muraki's memory was about to be opened... something he never dared to admit... the rsecret reason why he wanted Tsuzuki soooo bad
1. Chapter Zero

Disclaimer: Yami No Matsuei belongs to Yoko Matsushita, etc etc....

First try on Yami No ... Rated R for further chapters.... 

**Jealousy   
**  
**Chapter 0: "!" (Warning)  
**  
_What is jealousy?  
It's a moment when love and hate collide  
And all you want to do is to own  
To bind ….  
To be bound…._  
  
He eyed the sky with curious eyes. There was a big round shape of red behind the misty clouds. How wonderful the red color against the blackness of heavens seemed. He curled a smile on his thin lips. It was a good evening to hunt. He could feel his senses build up as the clouds moved apart to reveal the crimson moon. 

"Come, my beloved…." He hissed, "The night is beautiful."

He played his fingers along silky black hair and it ended upon the tips, falling through and traced the shape of a small figure clutched in his arms. Glazed alabaster surface filled his fingertips with softness. A pair of amethyst eyes looked up to meet his. How beautiful were those gemstones, dominating the pale empty face of the doll and how they looked like the ones he longed for. How he wanted to have them! 

Amethyst eyes…. How he wanted to see them crying blood….

  
  
"Chotto matte!" Hisoka hastened his feet to level his partner. _He's far worse than a five year old on a play ground,_ he thought to himself. Nevertheless he couldn't stop a faint smile growing on his lips to see the powerful shinigami stop at a cotton candy stall. "Childish!" he grumbled between his curled lips.

"Here you go!" A shape of fluffy pinky cotton candy on a red-white wand suddenly popped up before his green eyes. 

"Aa?" He took the wand to his hand, too surprised to even thank Tsuzuki.

"It's a magic wand," the taller man said as he took a bite on his own cotton candy, "It's capable of making a burdened heart lighter." He wiped his nose to clean his nose from the sticking candy. 

Tsuzuki and cotton candy were not visually matching. A 26 year old man, wrapped in black trench coat. Not to mention that he was a powerful shinigami who mastered 12 most powerful shikigami from Gensoukai. But what was in front of the boy was a pair of childlike eyes that seemed as if it was his first cotton candy. Beautiful, yet vulnerable.

Hisoka took a small bite of the fluffy candy and soon a taste of sweetness melted inside his mouth. "Sweet," he said, a foolish exclamation because he knew that cotton candy was made from sugar, and sugar tasted sweet. It was amazing that somehow the cotton candy cheered him up a bit after his last mission. Killing was a part of their job. And though it only meant to lead the soul into a better place, it was killing anyway. His heart still held the old human rules, killing equals sin. 

He snapped from his musings as he felt fingers running on his cheek. Tsuzuki was standing right in front of him with only a half eaten cotton candy to separate them. He wiped the boy's cheek and took his hand to his mouth. "Here, you forgot to eat them," he said as he traced to Hisoka's lips. Those fingers stayed there without asking permission to enter.

Hisoka felt his lips parted and he licked the fingers. They tasted sugary sweet.

"Thanks."

  
  
_How do you lure an ant into a trap?   
Pour some sugar and it would walk straight into it._

_  
  
_Muraki watched the scene from a far. That little boy was always on his way. No matter how hard he tried, he was never able to attract Tsuzuki's eyes to him. _You like him too much …. No…. You love him too much…._ His hands clenched into fist. 

_Be careful, lest you suffer for the loss of your loved one… as I lost mine… you…._ He turned his heels and walked away from his place. 

  
  
The red shade on the moon faded away into silvery white.   



	2. Chapter1 Spirit Carries On

All characters from Yami no Matsuei belongs not to me.... When I have a lot of money someday, I'm gonna buy them....!!! Yay!!

Sorry I take a very, very, very, very long time to continue this piece.... There were lots of excuses but I don't think you're interested in it.... ^__^ On to the ficcie!!

*****************************************

Chapter 1: Spirit Carries On

  
_Where did we come from?  
Why are we here?  
Where do we go when we die?  
What lies beyond?  
What lay before?  
Is anything certain in life?  
  
They say, "Life is too short,"  
"The here and the now"  
And "You've only given one-shot"  
But could there be more,  
Have I lived before,  
Or could this be all that we've got?  
  
If I die tomorrow   
I'll be alright because I believe  
That after we're gone   
Spirit carries on  
Spirit Carries On, by John Petrucci / Dream Theater_  
  
"… Their souls are supposed to go to Meifu, however they never arrive. Instead new-born souls were driven to Meifu as the dead," Tatsumi ended his report on the mission briefing in one of the plenty rooms of Enma-chou. 

"How come?" Hisoka voiced from his seat. Souls of normal deaths were naturally drawn into Meifu as their names written on Kiseki. Only those caused by third person or strange causes needed their aid to enter. And new-born souls were supposed to live for their candles were still long, and they would later die as the flame whither away for the lack of stearin.

"Anou, we haven't yet found the cause. It could be that their souls were swapped," Gushoushin answered, "But all of them have something in common, all of them died of a strange disease."

"Disease?" jade eyes widened in horror, Masaka! Could it be… Muraki? He knew that Muraki had not died yet by the carvings all over his body. He felt a shudder as he remembered that dreadful night. 

Tsuzuki noticed the sudden change in his partner's face. His thought had also hit the same wall. Muraki. That silver haired lunatic must be behind all of this. He was the only one that's capable to do such deed.   
"Tsuzuki, Kurosaki, you two go and investigate the case down to the bottom line," Konoe-Kachou gave his final order and dismissed the meeting. He added, "On your way there, don't forget to bring me some souvenirs." 

  
  
"How is your baby, Mrs. Harada?" 

"She's doing wonderful, Doctor," the woman answered as she looked down into her baby-cart, smiling at a baby girl who was sleeping silently there. "I don't know what would have happened without you, Doctor," the woman said her gratitude, "I panicked when I saw her bleeding. Thankfully you saved her life. She's so dear to me. Thank you so much, Doctor."

The silver haired doctor smiled. He was not a doctor on duty in that hospital. He was only visiting; but a couple of nights ago when the woman came with her baby, all of the doctors in that hospital was on emergency call of massive traffic accident on the freeway. Any doctor was needed. "It was my duty," he answered in a firm tone. 

The woman thanked again and left with her baby down the sterile corridor. 

Your baby is fine, Mrs. Harada, the silver haired man mused as he walked to the labs, she only swapped bodies with someone else. Unfortunately, that body was already going through somatic death, and it wouldn't support any kinds of life. But don't worry; she's still the cells that came from your womb.

  
  
"Let me see," Tsuzuki read through the papers he got from the library research, "the names of the dead new-born are Wada Megumi, Hiroyuki Kaze, Aoyama Hikaru, and Harada Yuki. And the names of the supposed-to-be dead are Itoh Shinichiro, Hokuto Shizuka, Takase Risa, and Yamada Miki. And they were treated at three different hospitals. Umm…." He stopped speaking as his right hand put in a piece of layer cake into his mouth. 

"Umm… ummm…," he continued, "Wada Megumi and Itoh Shinichiro were treated at St. Mary Hospital. Hiroyuki Kaze, Aoyama Hikaru, Yamada Miki, and Takase Risa were in Fuji University Hospital, while Hokuto Shizuka and Harada Yuki were treated at Morayaki Clinics."

"So we can conclude that these strange happenings must be started there, is that the point?," Hisoka asked a rhetoric question. 

Tsuzuki nodded, "There must be something strange in those hospital."

Hisoka thought for a couple of moments and then voiced again, "Anou, Tsuzuki, but they're three different hospitals. Is there any possibilities that it was done by the same person?" He thought again and then realized that Tsuzuki was no longer at his seat. He looked around the coffee shop and saw that the older man was currently asking for yet another piece of cake. The green eyed boy sighed. It was hard to be serious with Tsuzuki in this condition, but he was the one who decided their appointment at the shop.

The older man finally came back with a piece of cheesecake and apple pie. "What did you say, Hisoka?" He asked without feeling guilty, as if leaving someone who was talking to you seriously was something usual.

The boy clenched his fist, "I said…." His voice dropped as he saw the man before him chewing cheesecake like a greedy child. "You eat like a baby," he commented unpleasantly. Being raised in a noble family, Hisoka had learned table manners ever since he was a child. He eyed the older man closely, forgetting what he was going to say earlier. And then he let out a sigh.

"I see no use of talking to you when you're eating," the green eyed boy said, "I'm going out for a while. Page me when you're done eating." He stood up and then talked again before he went out from the coffee shop, only this time he gave more stress on his every word, "Be wise with the money or else Tatsumi might do something evil on you."  
  
Hisoka sighed again as he stepped out from the coffee shop. Dealing with the ever hungry Tsuzuki was not easy, especially when he wanted to talked about the case they were handling. He looked at his notes and decided to kill time by visiting the nearest hospital. Perhaps he could find something before the old man sobered up from his childish behavior.

He took a walk to Fuji University Hospital. The hospital was a part of the varsity's medical faculty. It wasn't very difficult to sneak up as a student and ask for some data. Off course Hisoka was a bit too young for a med student but he could pretend to have baby face. Making fake student ID was never a problem to any shinigami.

"Anou," he said to the nurse at the front desk, "One of my professors asked me to get a copy of some data on Hiroyuki Kaze and Aoyama Hikaru. Could you help me with them?"

The young woman looked up and eyed Hisoka carefully. "Which professor?" she asked, but then she continued because she saw confusion in the boy's eyes, "I'm sorry, but we don't give away the files unless we're certain who asked for them. Your senpai must have told you about this."

Hisoka lowered his face; it's time for a little play. "Aa, this is my first year so I don't know the professor's name. But I didn't dare to ask for his name because I was afraid I might offend him." He pouted a little and pretended to think hard, "You know the one with white hair, with thick glasses and lots of wrinkles on his face? Unnn…." He wished that his trick worked, all he said was a typical professor that existed in all faculties in all universities.

"Do you mean Professor Hashira or Professor Murasaki?" the nurse asked again.

Hisoka shook his head, still playing the innocent child role he put up. "Which one is Professor Hashira and which one is Professor Murasaki?" he asked again, "I mean, I was never in his class, so I'm not sure."

He stepped closer to the woman and felt her thoughts. It was good that he was an empath, therefore if needed, he could simply stole something. The woman's feeling was stronger on Professor Hashira and her memories consisted of views of the professor checking up children. He might be a pediatrician. The other one seemed to be an internist, he hardly took care of children.

"The one with…"

Hisoka never finished his sentence because a baritone voice cut through.

"You can give the boy the files, Akemi-chan," the man said, "It was Professor Hashira. I was there when he asked the boy to fetch the files."

Hisoka turned around and gasped; before him stood a very fair man. His skin was ivory white and his hair and eyes gleamed like silver stream. There was the person he hated most, the person who killed him slowly by engraving ancient words all over his body and made him suffer for the last three years of his life.  
"Muraki," he hissed.

The man with silver eyes lifted his brow. He waved his finger in front of the boy's nose. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, in here you must call me Muraki-sensei or Dr. Muraki," he said. There was a playful tone in his voice, "Don't you, freshman?" He sneered at the younger one.

Hisoka eyed Muraki with hatred boiling in his heart. He hated that man to every inch of his bones. "Yes, Sensei," he murmured, his voice clearly trembling with revulsion.

"Good then." Muraki suddenly grinned. 

Hisoka was sure he hated that mocking look and would love to give it a punch or two. But he did nothing because it would be obviously strange for a freshman at a med school to punch a doctor without a cause, well, at least he wouldn't be able to explain anything to other people.

"Here's a copy of the files," said Muraki as he shoved a folder into Hisoka's hand. The boy jerked up. He didn't realize that Akemi-chan – as Muraki called the woman at the front desk – had already done preparing the files.

"Thank you," he muttered, but it was definitely not meant for Muraki.

"Since I have nothing to do, I guess I can walk you to Professor Hashira's office," offered the doctor.  
"Thank you, but no thank you, Sensei," Hisoka turned down the offer. He, off course, wouldn't want to be at the same place with Muraki. He knew what kind of evil that lurked in the deepest of his heart. His white doctor coat was only a disguise to cover up his black heart. 

Hisoka hurried his steps to the door but the other man was following him.

"Wait," Muraki suddenly caught his arms, "You don't know his office."

The boy twitched and shoved the hand away but the grip was tight around his wrist. "I can go by myself." He tried to yank off the pale hand but it was no success. 

"Think about the time you can save by letting me escort you, freshman," the doctor scorned and then he added with a lower voice, "Beside, you have to thank me for helping you getting the files. Isn't right, boy? What would happen if I told her you were not student from here? Now show your thankfulness, my pretty doll. You know what I can still do to you."

Hisoka looked around and saw that people started to look at them. One of the security guard even walked towards them and asked Muraki if anything was alright. The silver haired man told the security that there was a little misunderstanding among them but the matter had already resolved. And Hisoka had no choice but to follow Muraki out of the building.

  
  
Both of them walked in silence until they reached an empty corridor. Muraki was the one who broke the silence. 

"So, what kind of case are you working now?" Muraki asked. There was a strange hint in his voice that made Hisoka shuddered. "Is it about the souls of new-born babies?" he asked again and then he continued, "I am not involved with whatever happened in there."

"You're lying!" Hisoka stopped his steps. He wasn't sure either why he followed the man in the first place but he wanted to gain as many information as possible, and to get any proof that Muraki was responsible for the swapping of those souls.

Muraki stopped and turned himself to the boy. He stepped closer so Hisoka was standing against the bare concrete wall. He raised both arms to prevent Hisoka from running away. "Have I ever lied to you, little one?" he asked. His face was so close to Hisoka that the boy felt he saw there were three eyes on the doctor's face when he failed to focus.

"Have you ever spoken truth?" 

"You are the empath. Why don't you tell me?" the doctor made yet another closer step and he traced the child's body with his fingers. And then slowly he dragged the boy closer to him in a possessive hold. "So what do you feel, my little doll?" he asked, "Is there any truth left within me?"

Hisoka tried to break away from the embrace but slowly a dark cloud seemed to be covering his eyes and he fell into the darkness of the other's heart. There was nothing to be seen and it was very cold, yet he saw a blaze of unseen flame of hatred. He felt he was entrapped inside a small cell and he couldn't get out, and the fear soon exploded into horror and he felt he wanted to scream out loud but no voice came. And he kept on falling.

  
  
Is this your heart, Muraki?

  
  
Hisoka didn't know how far he was falling but slowly there were shapes of shadow composing in the dark atmosphere, and series of mental images hurled into his mind. There was still no light in his surrounding, but somehow Hisoka could see them clearly as the first ray of dawn. Like the mixing of two opposite forces of yin and yang, the pictures, entangled to one and another, and created an epitome of a lifetime and beyond.

  
  
Is this your life, Muraki?

Is this your previous life?

Is this you?  
  
**************************************************  
And as to you Life I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths,  
(No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before).  
--Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892)  
**************************************to be continued

Spirit Carries On played by Dream Theater on the Metropolis II: Scenes from a Memory ... rewritten (off course) without permission.

What do you think of this? Any suggestion on what Hisoka would find?

Just say them in your review..... Thank you and sorry ^___^


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